


Sobriety and Sulfur

by nonky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Prompt by drabblewriter on LJ: Supernatural, Sam/Ruby, just one more tasteSpoilers: Up to 5x22





	Sobriety and Sulfur

Sam couldn't explain it to Dean or Bobby; maybe not to anybody living. He had a vague notion maybe their parents or Ellen might get his reaction to Ruby. His best bet might actually be Castiel since the angel had turned into the kissing bandit.

Ruby wasn't just a demon. She wasn't just a warm body. She wasn't just flesh and blood, willing under his hands and mouth. When they had met in dingy motels and falling down shacks, he wasn't just one kind of hungry.

She smelled like perfume he liked, not too girly but never masculine. She tasted fresh, ran smooth over his lips even when he was parched and rough like sandpaper. She touched him kindly, fingers slipping easily through hair she never complained about being floppy. She did love him, in her own way, in her own time.

It was just demon time, and Sam was the last person to misinterpret that. He had been on borrowed time since his conception. After Dean went to Hell, life stopped in most of the important ways. He took care of the car, and roamed around killing monsters, but otherwise bowed out of the human race.

The ulterior motives were always there; but so were the gentle touches she'd brought to his rehabilitation. If Dean was disgusted by the demon blood, he'd have been completely repulsed by the falling-down drunk version of his little brother. Ruby was the only reason he'd had a hot meal in the time Dean was gone. She was the only push making him rest or patch up injuries.

Ruby filled a gap. She did it with her own borrowed (recycled) body, her soft words in darkness, her hands petting him until nightmares gave him space in his head to get some kind of sanity.

They had discussions. She teased him about his Star Trek viewing habits. He called her on her junk food requirements. They learned how to order for each other. She made him take nights off, he made her listen to his iPod. Ruby told him about the good old days of her human life; Sam would never diminish the idea of a plague again. For every lie, there was a spot of genuine interaction, something really her.

Sam refused to become simple. He didn't think it was fair to demonize anyone with layers and wit, even a demon.

It might have never been about sex if she didn't make it about sex, but Sam wasn't a monk. It would never have occurred to him to ask to drink blood, but neither did he do too much thinking to get around it. Mostly, Ruby pointed the dark path out, and Sam turned onto it all by his own damned self.

The best and worst about it was how much pleasure there had been in everything he'd been taught to despise.

His brother came back and saw only that he'd been seduced, misled and manipulated. Dean somehow looked at tiny little Ruby next to his very large frame and wanted to cry rape for his little brother. Sam was grateful he had people who wanted to believe the best of him. He was glad the expectations were for him to act better than his worst.

He was relieved to have his brother back. Sam knew he couldn't go on with Ruby. Even in the most intimate moment, he felt her betrayal meandering along his spine like sharp fingernails. He knew what a honey trap was, how stupid he was being.

What he'd never suspected was how pale and painfully lucid it would feel to be good after he'd been saved.


End file.
